Issue XXXIII

33.


The following selections are from our 2017 printed journal.

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Editors:
Jessica Dodge/LONZALL/ Tyler Mars/Samuel J. Miller/Adrianne Nix/Lisa Mundy/Hope R. Martinez/Kurtis Matthew Russel/Isaac J.S. Duke/ Kayla Ferguson/ Kelsey Whitman/ River Flora/ Jesse Fine

Advisor(s):
Justin Rigamonti

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in print CONTENTS:

  • When it Grows….. Kelsey Whitman
  • Poem and I….. LONZALL
  • Daylight….. Jessica Dodge
  • You Wake Up with Your Head Inside of a Coffee Can….. Jesse Rapoport
  • From Florence to Rome – All Saints Day….. Jean Wiggins
  • Wolf….. Tyler Mars
  • Dr. Echo Collins….. Kayla Ferguson
  • Desert, Mill….. Missy Geise
  • Zombie Walk….. Joanne Tolson
  • Atlas….. Adrienne Nix
  • August….. Lyn Lifshin
  • Moth….. Justin Bright
  • As You Lay Dying….. Konstantin Rega
  • The Curator….. Isaac J.S. Duke
  • On Record….. Cathy Porter
  • Pluto….. Adrianne Nix
  • Look at You….. LONZALL
  • Giggle….. Jessica Dodge
  • What is an Erotic Poem….. Kurtis Matthew Russel
  • Flora….. River Flora
  • Sunlight….. Samuel J. Miller
  • Keep Your Chin Up….. Harrison Smith
  • A Better Story….. Justin Rigamonti
  • [Untitled]….. Twix
  • Pride Poem….. Faye Bird
  • Columbia Gorge….. Tyler Mars
  • Audition….. Hope R. Martinez
  • Dear Friends and Family….. Isaac J.S. Duke
  • Musings about Muses….. Jesse Fine
  • Triptych….. Andrea Hollander
  • A Stray Dog is Directing Maggots….. Jesse Rapoport
  • Langston Hughs Speaks….. Cathy Porter
  • Lead….. River Flora
  • The Climax….. Kurtis Matthew Russel
  • Corn Chips….. Tyler Mars
  • Housefly….. Justin Rigamonti
  • Icarus….. Isaac J.S. Duke
  • Soggy Boots in the Desert….. Daniel E Haislet
  • I Just Needed to Tell You….. Cathy Porter
  • Piles….. Kelsey Whitman
  • XXXistential…..Tyler Mars
  • Those Late August Nights….. Lyn Lifshin
  • Pools….. Kelsey Whitman

Selections


Desert by Missy Geise

2017

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On Record
by Cathy Porter

We became scarecrows-
thin, malnourished, ignored in the
summer heat. The sign went up-
the hottest summer on record,
we box up the lemonade stand
and head inside to help with
dinner, young eyes fixed on the floor.
the fighting begins after plates have
been cleared and bottles opened.
Most nights, we head to the barn-
listen to the train whistle off in
the distance, tell ghost stories
until dawn. We sleep as late as
we can, wait for breakfast to
be called before heading inside.
I eat as little as possible-
we all do. A few cars drive by,
spraying dust in the mid-morning
heat; they must think it’s catchy.

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Sunlight
by Samuel J. Miller

You know in the spy movies when you see lasers in smoke, looking for motion? Yeah well I saw that today but the laser was sunshine and the smoke was fog and it shone down from above but you couldn’t see the sun itself, just its spotlight. It fell downtown and looked like it landed where the homeless sleep. It looked like where the cops don’t want the homeless to sleep. And it looked like none of that would happen as long as the light kept shining. For a second I thought maybe it was god, but he made cops and he made homelessness and he made sunshine and fog but then it went away and god did too and I guess it was just sunlight.

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Mill by Missy Geise

2017

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Housefly
by Justin Rigamonti

One Mr. Housefly made himself at home,
blasting his fuzzy bluehorn like Marco Polo,
but too damn dumb to do anything more
than probe the windowsills. Finally, this morning
I trapped him at the blinds and nimbly
cracked the window, pushed out the screen,
and shooshed him toward the junipers beyond.
Now, only minutes later, there’s a big, fat fly
thudding repeatedly against the pane,
and I swear it’s him, a yowling housecat wanting back
minutes after wanting out. If I was God of Houseflies
I’d sit this chap down and get him to admit
what he really wanted: in or out. Instead, he treats me
the way we treat our Jesuses and Allahs
like all sorts of magic doorkeepers who give a shit.